March to the Sea - Empire of Man Book II

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

"Yes, Sir. I understand," the sergeant said.

"If I had a 'qualified officer' to replace you with, I would," the Marton Regiment's adjutant said. "To tell the truth, if I'd had a qualified officer to replace Lieutenant Fonal with, I would have."

"Yes, Sir. I understand."

"You don't sound like it," the battalion commander put in with a serious expression. "You sound petrified."

"I'll handle it, Major Ni," Krindi Fain said. "I'd just expected to be replaced. At most, I'd figured I'd handle the route march. But fighting them? I'm not sure I know how."

"Just do what you're told, soldier," the CO said. "I'm giving you a temporary rank of full lieutenant. You taught most of them the drill, so don't tell me you don't know it yourself. Just do what you know."

"Yes, Sir," the Diaspran began again, then checked himself. "I really do understand. And will comply."

"Okay," Ni said with a gesture of support. "Get to it."

Fain found himself walking back through the temporarily stopped division, wondering where and how he'd gone wrong.

"What's wrong, Fain? You look like somebody shot your dog."

He looked over at Julian and made a gesture of resigned horror.

"I'm in command of the company."

"Yeah," the Marine said. "I thought that might happen."

"I'm not real sure about this," Fain admitted. "It's a lot of responsibility."

"So was the training you gave them," Julian pointed out. "Same deal. Just get up there, and do what comes natural. Remember every good leader you've ever known and copy them. Slavishly, if you have to. And never let them see you slime." For some reason, the Marine found this last humorous.

"Okay," the Diaspran said.

"Here." The human dug into a pouch and pulled out a twisted piece of metal.

"What's this?" Fain asked, turning it over and over in a true-hand.

"First battle I was ever in," the Marine said, "I caught that piece of shrapnel. I held onto it for good luck. I sort of figured if I had it, I'd never get hit again. Don't know why. But it's always been a lucky piece for me."

"What are you going to do without it?" the Diaspran asked.

"I'm not going to need it for this battle," Julian said, tapping his armor. "The Boman hasn't been born that can crack this stuff. You take it. I'll be okay."

"All right," Fain said. "Thanks. And may the God of Water protect you."

"It's not me you have to worry about," the squad leader said, hefting his stutter gun.

Kny Camsan grunted in laughter.

"So that's what those shit-sitters were doing! There's an army back at Sindi, and they were trying to get back to it."

"That's nothing to laugh about," a subchief said sharply. "All our loot is back there, not just the loot from Sindi. And our women."

"Sure," the war leader replied with another grunt. "And so are ten or twelve thousand warriors with Mnb Trag to keep them on their toes. Which means their stupid army is still going to be sitting in front of the walls waiting when we get back. This was just a big spoiler raid. They wanted to suck us away from Sindi so they could get the rest of their army into position."

"Maybe," the subchief said. "If that was the idea, it worked, though."

"Of course it did," Camsan agreed. "And how much good is it going to do them? We've got the entire host almost fully assembled now, and the shit-sitters aren't just outside their walls, they're outside ours, with every warrior we have ready to come right up their backsides. They probably figured that they'd get all of our warriors out of Sindi to chase their cavalry, but they didn't, and their smart-ass plan has them stuck out where we can get at them in the open!"

"Maybe," the subchief repeated. "But we're having a hard enough time with these shit-sitter cavalry. Those new weapons of theirs are tough."

"Not tough enough now that we know where they are and what they're trying to do," Camsan shot back. "When we overrun the iron heads, we'll take their new weapons for our own. And then we'll overrun their army at Sindi and take their weapons, too. And when we've done that, there will be no army to man the walls of the Cove, and we'll overrun them, as well!"

"Let's hope it goes that way," the subchief said gloomily, "but so far, the iron heads have been doing much better out of this than we have."

"Listen up!" Bistem Kar's powerful voice boomed over the gathered infantry division. "So far, this whole war has been going for the Boman, but we're taking it to them now. The only thing that stands between us and victory is that the cavalry is trapped in there."

He gestured over his shoulder to the deep woods.

"We're going to go in there and find them. It won't be hard." There was an uneasy chuckle at that, for the crackle of gunfire was clear in the distance. "Then we're going to open up a hole and let them out. Then we march back to the city.

"I won't kid you; this is going to be a tough fight. But we can do it. All you have to do is aim low and obey your officers. Now, let's go give the Boman a little taste of what war with K'Vaern's Cove means!"

"Lieutenant Fain," the battalion CO said, "we've been tasked with putting out a company of skirmishers. Do you know the difference between skirmishing and regular fighting?"

Light was just begi

"Skirmishing means to spread out and move slow," the Diaspran said in reply to the question. "Move from cover to cover. You're trying to find the enemy force. When you do, you engage them at maximum range from cover. You try to slow them up and figure out how they're deployed, but you can't let yourself get pi

Major Ni sighed.

"As I suspected, you know far more about it than my other company commanders. Congratulations, you just volunteered."

"Sir, this isn't a skirmisher unit," the Diaspran protested. "You use woodsmen for skirmishers. Or trained forces. It's a job for ... crack shots and experts!"

"Nonetheless," Ni said with a gesture of command. "Get out in front."

Fain went trudging back to his new company, wondering how to pass on the word.

"Straighten up," Pol said. "Don't let them see you slime."

"Where did you hear that?" Fain asked. It was more words than Pol usually used in a week.

"Sergeant Julian," was the only reply.

Fain started to think about that. How would Julian handle the situation? Well, first of all the sergeant would be hard as nails. No protests would be allowed. Julian would explain what they were going to do in a way that made clear he was a past master of the technique ... whether he'd ever heard of it before in his life or not.

Fain had trained with the Marton Regiment, so he knew, in general, who were the crack shots. There were quite a few who were good in Delta Company, and that was important with skirmishers.

Before the recently promoted lieutenant knew it, he'd practically walked into his formation.

"All right, you yard birds!" he snapped. "We've been detailed as skirmishers. And we're going to show the rest of these shit-for-brains what that means ... !"

Roger had just taken a sip of water from his camel bag when the skirmishers pelted back from their sentry posts.

"Here they come!" one of them shouted as he tumbled over the hastily constructed wall.

The former laborers of the New Model Army had worked hard through the night, and the fortifications were as well constructed as anyone could have done in the time available to them. They consisted of a shallow wall and a trench behind the stream, all covered by a thin line of infantry pickets. Most of the cavalry had made it back and was forming up at the rear, and as soon as Pri pronounced them ready, they would head for the flanks to reinforce the Marines.

Cases of spare ammunition and rations from the pack turom were spaced along the wall, ru

All that was left to do was fight.

"Captain Pahner, Roger here," Roger said into his radio, considerably more lightly than he actually felt. "We're about to engage an estimated two to three thousand screaming barbarians. I have, as usual, created numerous bricks without straw. And might I say once more how incredibly much fun this whole Mardukan Tour has been. We really must try it again sometime."

Despite himself, Pahner chuckled, but the chuckle had a grim note.

"Just finish them off and sit tight," he said, "because it doesn't look like I'm going to have anyone to send you for a while. The north bank is heating up."

One of the skirmishers paused, raised a hand, and made the sign for lots of good guys. Then he corrected it to bad guys.

Krindi Fain grunted and motioned for the spread-out company to move over to the left. The Marines had a term for the movement he wanted, but at the moment, he couldn't think what it was. The idea, though, was clear. When they opened fire, the Boman would know they were being attacked, and if the skirmishers attacked from right in front of their own main force, the Boman would know where their enemies were and where to counterattack. But if the skirmishers moved over to the side, the Boman might be suckered into attacking in the wrong direction.